Daddy Dear
by dragon-hottie
Summary: One day, Hermione gets kidnapped. The next thing she knows, she's in a bigger predicament ever possible.
1. Kidnap

Daddy Dear

Summary: I'm training in the Dark Arts, betrothed at seventeen and oh yea by the way Voldemort's my dad.

Rating: PG13

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, I wish I did.

It was a dreary day for August and unusually cold too. A group of people cloaked in black stood in a circle around a smoked grey casket. Heavy rain fell down as the ceremonies began, covering everyone in icy coldness, yet no one dared to move. A tall figure at the center of the group, spoke with extreme fatigue and some what of sadness. At last the man stepped down from the platform he was standing on, allowing everyone to let out the breath they've been holding.

Soon one by one, with hushed words to the man, left with a tiny pop. Just as Lucius Malfoy was about to leave a cold voice met his year.

"Just a minute Lucius, I need to speak to you."

Lucius reluctantly turned around to face the Dark Lord. Being alone with him wasn't something Lucius enjoyed doing the most; the Lord was capable of anything, anytime.

"Yes my Lord is there anything I can offer you," Lucius said politely with a bow.

"For years you have been my faithful servant."

"Thank you sir, I am not worthy of such compliment."

"Don't play modest with me Lucius, such games irritate me, but I will forgive you this time. My wife died yesterday as you well know and I will perish soon enough either naturally or at the hands of the potter boy," the Dark Lord paused for breath.

"Harry Potter cannot destroy one as mighty as you," Lucius lied, knowing full well that Potter could destroy the Dark Lord only if he knew the way.

Voldemort eyed the man before him, chuckling at Lucius's willingness to please him, "Do not lie to me Lucius, we both know can Potter can kill me. And if he does, then I need someone to carry on the legend of the Dark Lord."

"My lord I am most honored that you-,"

"SILENCE fool! Don't flatter yourself; you're not worthy at all! For fifty years I've created hell for wizards and muggles alike, that bastard Dumbledore seems to think if I'm destroyed everything will end. But what he doesn't know, Lucius my friend, is going to hurt him the most..."

!&!&!&!&!  
Hermione sat on the rusted old swings of the playground. Her ears listened carefully to the singing of the crickets, and the occasional movement of couples walking in the moonlight. No one ever comes here anymore, not since a new playground was built in Swan Park. Here Hermione could think freely without the disturbance of everyday life. And there was always something for her to think about.

Ever since she was eleven, her life turned upside down. From being friends with the boy who lived, freeing a wanted prisoner and fighting with Voldemort's men, Hermione's life was far from normal. She only had one more year to go before the graduation then she's going to be out there chasing her dreams, whatever they were.

Lightly swinging back and forth Hermione drifted into a reverie...

A little bundle in a small crib lined with light green trim. The baby was crying, tears leaked out of the corners of the baby's eyes. Then a pair of hands with long slender fingers picked up the baby, gently rocking it back to sleep. The woman's face was blurry, but streams of tears flowed down her cheek, dripping onto the baby's soft hair. With a silent kiss, the woman put the baby back into its cradle. The woman was saying something, whispering, words that had no sound, all the sudden she was gone, leaving the baby all alone, never to feel love again...

With a loud gasp Hermione ripped out off her dream, clutching her heart. That was the third time she had the dream, every time it would end the same way, with the baby being all alone just like her. Hermione mentally slapped herself, what was she saying she wasn't alone she had Harry and Ron and her parents that loved her so much. Before Hermione could think anyone, a soft rustle disturbed the silence of the play area. Carefully, Hermione hopped of the swing and looked around wildly trying to pinpoint the noise.

No one could be out this late, unless they were looking for her, Hermione pushed the thought out of her mind. No one could be looking for her, why anyone would want to find her there was no reason at all.

Then before Hermione could do anything a figure stepped out from the shadow, with a blinding flash of light everything was gone...

!

'God, my head, what's going on, why does my head hurt so much, where am I, why can't I feel my hands.'

With the last thought Hermione's eyes sprang open. At first she thought she was in a fancy hotel then she realized that no hotel would have stone walls, at least the hotels she knows. She realized the reason why she couldn't feel her hand was because she was lying on it. Managing roughly to heave herself up into a sitting position, Hermione observed the room carefully. Everything was in a rich creamy color from the satin drapes to the silk bedspread. Everything was decoratively arranged to perfection. Even though everything appeared to be warm there was an eeriness about it, something that wasn't right.

Suddenly the door opened and a small house elf wrapped into a dirty towel came in. Silently it put a heap of cloth on an armchair beside the fire place.

" Miss is expected into the drawing room, Huffy here is suppose to help Miss get dressed to meet the master."

"Master, who's your master and why am I here? How did I get here?" Hermione asked a torrent of questions.

The house elf merely shaked its head and said, "Huffy can't tell, master's orders."

Giving up after a few more tries Hermione let the house Elf dress her. After Huffy was done, she led Hermione up to a self standing mirror. When Hermione saw her reflection she could hardly recognize herself, she was wearing a deep midnight blue robe made from Chinese silk, lined with Victorian satin laces around the bodice.

Hermione nearly gagged at the sight of herself, the clothe were obviously expensive, "Who am I going to meet, the king?"

The house elf took no notice of the bitter sarcasm in her voice; instead she started to waddle out of the room beckoning Hermione to follow her. Hermione obediently followed Huffy, determined to find a way out of wherever she was. As she walked along the corridors Hermione took care to remember where all the staircases are, incase she needed to make a fast break. Huffy went around this corner and the next soon Hermione didn't have a clue how many turns she took.

"Master's waiting for miss inside, please go in. Huffy leaving now," Huffy said softly, stopping in front a pair of mahogany doors.

Hermione took a deep breathe to calm herself down; it wasn't like whoever was on the other side of the door was going to kill her. If the guy was then why he would get her all dressed up, oh no what if he's a major pervert that kidnaps young girls for entertainment. Hermione gave herself a shake; she was letting her imagination run away as usual.

Slowly she opened the door, revealing a cozy little room with a large fire place on the other side. Someone was sitting there in an armchair, facing the blazing fire. Before she could make anymore observations someone shoved her from behind and locked the door, so she couldn't get out.

"Greetings Hermione, nice to see you well," a drawling voice, that was only too familiar to Hermione, stated.

"Why the hell am I here, what are you going to do; I'm warning you if you touch me I'll kill you!"

Lucius chuckled at the thought of a mere teenager killing him.

"Please Hermione calm down no one's going to hurt you, Lucius kindly show her a chair, will you," the cold voice of Lord Voldemort came from the armchair.

"Eep! L-lord Voldemort," Hermione gasped.

"Silence! Do not speak the Lord's name," Lucius commanded.

Voldemort held up his hand, silencing Lucius, "And you Lucius need to know when to be quiet."

"Why am I here?" Hermione asked bravely and tried to keep her voice calm, but it was shaking.

Voldemort at last lifted his gaze from Lucius to Hermione, very slowly. Then to Hermione's great surprise he smiled at her, it wasn't his usual sick and twisted smile neither, it a kind smile.

"Ah Hermione, my dear Hermione, I haven't seen you in nearly seventeen years, since that night you were taken away, now is that anyway to greet your father?" Voldemort spoke softly from the fireside, finally getting up from his chair.

"What in Merlin's Beard are you talking about? You're not my dad, my dad is Joseph Granger!" Hermione stuttered.

Voldemort obviously cracked if he thought he was her dad. Her dad probably home right now worried sick about where she was.

Voldemort laugh quietly and took a step towards her; Hermione, now covered by the shadows of Voldemort, took a step back falling into a chair that Lucius so kindly wheeled around.

"I'm surprise that Granger never told you the truth after all these years, he was supposed to tell you when you entered Hogwarts," Voldemort mumbled to himself, "But never less now you know the truth."

"What the hell are you talking about? What truth?" Hermione was now more confused than ever, why in the world was she here and why is the Dark Lord pretending to be her father.

Voldemort merely smiled at her outburst, "Calm yourself Hermione, I expect my daughter to have more self control than that, it will be well needed for the future."

"STOP SAYING THAT! I'M NOT YOUR DAUGHTOR, NOW LET ME GO HOME!"

"SILENCE! DO NOT EVER RAISE YOUR VOICE AT ME!" Voldemort sharply commanded her, and then lowered his voice to a deadly whisper, "You're welcome to go right now if you wish, but keep in mind if you go you will never know the truth about your true heritage."

Hermione stopped in the motion of getting up. Quickly she ran over the possible choices in her head. She could neither go home right now nor never find out what he's talking about, then again what's the chance of him actually letting her go. Or she could stay here and listen to what he has to say, and then try to find a way to get out of there or get killed in the process. The first choice was definitely more logical, but she did want to know what Voldemort was talking about, argh, she's letting her curiosity get the better of her, but in this case the curiosity just might kill the cat.

"Tell me."

"Don't worry, I will."


	2. Story Time!

Voldemort sat in front of the fire facing his only daughter, who does not look very happy at the moment. Taking a deep breath, he began his tale.

"Nearly six decades ago, I became the most powerful wizard for centuries, of course it wasn't easy, I had to create fear, I had to create hell for every living thing," Voldemort paused there recalling the sweet memories of his past, "everything was perfect, everything was the way I had planned, until the day I met your mother. What happened during that time was not important, so I won't go into the details."

"Eventually, we got married and had you. However your mother feared for your safety, there was many who wanted you dead-,"

"Why would anyone want me dead?"

"I SAID DO NOT INTERUPT; DON'T TRY MY PATIENCE IT'S WANING THIN!"

Hermione recoiled at his words, shutting up and made a mental note to never interrupt him again.

"As I was saying, many of my enemies dearly wanted you died; after all you were my daughter. Your mother loved you very much, one night she took you to the home of her cousins and left you there to grow up with muggles, not knowing what you were or who you were. Your mother was planning to come back to my side, and then everything went wrong."

"First my own curse rebounded on me, making the all powerful Lord Voldemort a mere non-existent thing. What happened to your mother during the next thirteen years I do not know, she didn't wish to speak of it. Three years ago when I was reborn, you could say, I sought her out and brought her back to this very manor to live by my side for the rest of eternity, but her life ended all too soon after..."Voldemort's face truly fasten when he said the last sentence, stopping again for breath.

Hermione was bursting with questions to ask him, but she wasn't sure if he was finished. She tried to hold it in, she even tried biting her tongue, and however words came spilling out her mouth faster than you can say shut up.

"What does that have to do with me? What proof do you have that I'm your daughter? How do I know you're not lying?" Hermione wanted to ramble on and on, but decided it wouldn't be a smart move.

Voldemort looked at his "daughter" for a moment, judging her capability of what, it didn't show, and however he did answer.

"Your mother was a powerful woman, nothing stood in her way if she ever wanted anything. Seventeen years ago she made me promise to never lead you into the dark arts, she wanted you to live what she calls a peaceful life," Voldemort snorted at the thought of a peaceful life for himself.

"Originally we planned for the first born to be my heir, but you were the first born a girl not a boy, so I let your mother have her wish. The agreement was that she had to provide me with a male heir, or else you would be the heir. Unfortunately the little incident regarding Harry Potter happened before we could have any more children, when I was revived; your mother was too...too late in her prime, so according to the agreement now you're my heir."

Hermione sat in her chair flabbergasted, what in the world does he think he's talking about. No way could she be his daughter, let alone his heir.

"First of all what proof do you have that I'm YOUR daughter? Second of all even if I was your daughter there's no way I would want to be your heir."

"Hm... most people would die for the chance to be my heir, but I expected this to happen so that's why Hermione I, as your father, by legal rights have your birth certificate to prove that you're my daughter."

"You what? As if! I bet you forged it, or broke into my parents' house and stole it," Hermione said, "okay, maybe you wouldn't have broken in, but one of your gooneys might have."

Still, Hermione reached out her hand and took the birth certificate, on the bottom written in black ink was her name, Hermione Helen Riddle, is hereby announced the legitimate Daughter of Helen Riddle and Tom Riddle. There it was written in ink, normally Hermione would believe anything that's on paper, but let's face it this is Voldemort we're talking about, and how she can trust him.

"Okay, so you have a flimsy piece of paper. For all I know you used a spell to fake this. I want more proof, something that only my real parents would know."

Voldemort smiled again, the fifth time this evening, it amused him to see his daughter so determined to prove that she wasn't his daughter.

"Hermione, do you have three moles, in a roll, on your bottom?"

Hermione gasped. No one knew about that, not even Mr. and Mrs. Granger. This is not happening.

"But, but…"

Hermione sighed in frustration, how can this be happening to her, why after all these years, why did she have to be his daughter and why did he have to be Voldemort.

"Why, why didn't anyone tell me this, "Hermione finally asked.

"Your mother didn't want you to know, she wanted you to live a normal witch's life."

"Why would anyone want to kill me?" Hermione asked returning to her original question.

"Because you are my daughter if I brought you up then everyone would count on you being a dark witch, therefore it was the easiest to kill you before you became too powerful."

Hermione looked at the floor, she was a very logical person, but right now she just wanted to die.

"So you're going to make me your heir? What about my life, what about my friends, what am I going to tell them?"

"I would have preferred a son, but seeing you're the only one, neither you nor I have much choice in the matter. Your life will change but for the better, I will personally teach you all I know, you will find new friends ones that are in your class, and as for your old friends you will tell them nothing, no one must know. If anyone finds out who you really are, then they would be dead within 24 hours, I assure you that."

Hermione was too shocked by now to say something sensible. A really appealing idea would be to claw his eyes out, chopped them into pieces, throw in the fire and then roast them for dinner, but unfortunately that wasn't an option. She wanted to say something, anything, but before she had the chance, Voldemort spoke again.

"You have a lot of training waiting for you tomorrow. I suggest you get some sleep. We can talk more tomorrow. I assure you, we'll have plenty of opportunity in the future."

A/N What do you guys think, good, bad, ugly? Well in any case, please review.


	3. Malfoy

Hermione woke up with the sun shinning in her face. At first she couldn't figure out why she felt so worried, then as she sat up too fast and bumped her head on the four canopy bed, the memories of last night came back to her.

She was kidnapped and now she's at god knows where with her read father, who just happened to be the man trying to kill her best friend. This is just too weird to comprehend. Hermione was considering going back to sleep when the door opened, and in came Huffy.

"Miss, the Lord is expecting you in the Dinning room. He said to not be late or else," At this point Huffy made a quick gesture across her throat.

Hermione got the meaning (who wouldn't?).

"Okay, tell him I'll be there in a moment."

"As you wish miss," Huffy replied, as she turned to go, a slow smirk graced a feature and somehow Hermione knew this wasn't going to be pleasant.

Twenty minutes later, Hermione stood in the middle of nowhere, having no clue where she was. When she left her room she thought she knew the way, but after a few turns and twists, she ended up here.

Hermione looked around seeing nothing but portraits. Carefully she made her way over to a particularly large one featuring a lady in her early thirties. She wore a beautiful sundress with large flower prints all over them. The wind was blowing her hair around her face that had on a warm, gentle smile.

'This is my mother'

For some reason Hermione suddenly felt a longing to know the woman in front of her. She reached out her hand to touch the portrait-

"I wouldn't to that if I were you. Finger oil is especially bad for painting, it'll ruin the colors."

Hermione pulled back her hand at the sound of the voice. She was so close, she could feel her mother's presence and who ever was behind her just had to go and destroy the moment.

"What do you know about painting, for all I-"

Hermione stopped talking when she spun around and faced her intruder.

"Malfoy! What are you doing here?"

The young man in front of her, cocked his head in such a way it reminded Hermione of a puppy, but Draco Malfoy was no puppy.

"I don't believe we've met."

Hermione snorted. Great now he was going to play dumb with her, as if she couldn't tell from his definitely Malfoy features. The soft strands of whitish blonde hair hanging gently over his steel blue eyes which are shining slightly at the moment. There was something wrong about this picture; something doesn't seem right about him. Sure, he had the same lean body due to quidditch training, but the way he was holding himself was a bit off from his usual chin up, overly proud self.

"Hello, miss, are you still there?" Malfoy's voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Of course I'm still here, can't you see that!" Hermione snapped at him.

"Forgive me for my ignorance."

Hermione snorted again, did she just hear correctly, was Malfoy apologizing.

"Um…what are you doing here," Hermione asked, after getting over the initial shock of Malfoy apologizing.

"I live here, just for the summer, I like to paint the estate during the summer time" he added quickly seeming the look of horror on Hermione's face.

For the first time Hermione noticed the canvas strapped on his shoulder, she didn't know he could paint. This is getting weirder and weirder by the second. Before she had the chance to say something, Huffy came running towards them.

"Miss! What are you doing here! Can't you tell the time, you're twenty minutes late. Master is so going to punish Huffy, oh dear!" At this point Huffy broke into tears rocking back and forth.

"Huffy it's alright. It's my fault for keeping miss…"

"Hermione," She supplied helpfully, so shocked was she that Malfoy was comforting a house-elf she didn't bother to think why he didn't know her name.

"Yes, Miss Hermione here. I'll tell my father that. Right now you just lead us to where ever they are."

"Oh, young Master, you're always so kind!"

Hermione had to stop herself from snorting at that comment. She didn't have time anyways, because right then and there Malfoy grabbed her hand and began pulling her after the running Huffy.

"Com'on miss, she runs very fast. She won the house-elf's association's yearly marathon if I remember correctly."

No kidding, Huffy was already rounding the next corner, running as fast as she could go. Before long all they could see of her was a speck in the distance. Maybe it had something to do with Hermione being as slow as a turtle and Malfoy dragging her along.

"Wait stop, why are the corridors so long," Hermione puffed out as she desperately tried to gather air into her lungs.

Malfoy looked at her in a weird way, and then he bent over and scooped up Hermione in his arms.

"Sorry Miss, but we need to get there fast or else."

Hermione was too embarrassed by now to say anything back. So there she was cradled in his arms like a child, while he sprinted across the hall. She could feel his every heart beat pulsing through her. She could smell the faint scent of oil paint and turpentine on his clothe. If she didn't hate Malfoy as much as she did, maybe this could have been very romantic.

"We're here."

Malfoy set her down on the ground and massaged his arms.

"God, you need to lose a few pounds, I can barely feel my arms."

"It's your own fault for wanting to carry me; I never asked to be carried!"

Malfoy smiled at her and shrugged his broad shoulders, then gestured towards the door.

Hermione looked in front of her and saw a large double door made of cherry wood. Gingerly she placed her hand on the handle and twisted it. The door swung open with ease, revealing a bright and sunny room. Voldemort was naturally sitting at the head of the table, sipping his morning tea. On his right was Lucius, who glared at her for being late. And lastly on his left was-

"Malfoy!"

A/N what did you guys think. It was kind of pointless and not a lot of action going on. Please review and give me suggestions!


End file.
